


The Witch in the Glass

by CuriouslyCunning (Dizzydodo)



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Oracles, Secret Santa, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 08:05:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17721338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dizzydodo/pseuds/CuriouslyCunning
Summary: Mako's question demands to be answered. Now if only he could work up the courage to ask it.MakoHaru Secret Santa 2018 gift for Cetaceans-pls





	The Witch in the Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Rated for suggestiveness, but nothing too explicit.
> 
> I would love to make it explicit, mind, but I have five other smut scenes on my plate and it just isn't happening, alas!

_My mother says I must not pass_

_Too near that glass;_

_She is afraid that I will see_

_A little witch that looks like me,_

_With a red, red mouth, to whisper low_

_The very thing I should not know!_

\- Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt "The Witch in the Glass"

* * *

 

The door in the corner of his grandparents' dining room was glass-paned so that any curious passersby could look in. The only trouble was there was nothing there to see; behind the glass panes there was a solid wall of cinder blocks, cement covering the seams. There was a light switch beside it, and much to Makoto's delight, flipping the switch still turned on a light behind the wall that shone down from the ceiling. Annoyed at his constant attempts to open the door, his grandpa had put a china cabinet in front of it and trusted that out of sight meant out of mind.

The mystery of that door had taunted Makoto with its possibilities every day of his young life, and no amount of cabinets could dim its allure. He had considered everything from pirate's treasure to some fearsome monster bricked in the room, but all his questions had been met with bored assurances that it was only a wall. A wall behind a glass-paned door.

It was years before his grandpa moved the cabinet again, just enough to fix the worn floor beneath it. Just enough that one very determined boy could creep behind it that night, quietly jiggling the handle of the door and pouting when he discovered it was locked. Makoto considered a moment, eyes narrowed in a thoughtful frown while he considered the problem. He scooted out from behind the door and gently opened the big drawer on the china cabinet, small hand rifling through place mats looking for any sort of key. If the door had been a quiet whisper of intrigue before then finding it was locked was a siren's song promising adventure. Makoto had to find a way in before it was closed to him forever.

Nothing in the big drawer. Makoto opened one of the two smaller drawers, reaching inside- a soft tink struck his ears, something clattering to the floor beside his feet. He knew what it was before his greedy fingers closed around the key. A plain bronze affair with a ring on the end wide enough that he could fit a finger through it. He pushed it into the lock eagerly, jiggling it until it finally turned. He turned the handle once more and the door opened out. Not much, but enough that he could squeeze through if he sucked in his stomach.

Now all that stood in his way was a wall. Makoto reached out to flip the light switch once more, looking up at the space where the light came from, trying to decide how much taller he would need to be before he could grab the ledge and pull himself up there. One of the dining room chairs and two old phone books were enough. He clambered up, grabbed the wall and hauled himself over with a strength born of excitement and desperation. He hadn't considered the fall, but he hardly felt it he was so full of pride at his victory.

The room beyond was nothing like he had conjured in his daydreams, no gold piratical or otherwise, no obvious secret stashed in plain sight or a ravenous beast to be found.

There was a maple dresser pressed against the far wall, the drawers closed and their handles cracking. A wicker chest stood a couple feet away from it, thick with the same dust that blanketed the dresser's top and the creaky wooden floor. The mirror was the only thing in the room that seemed to be untouched by time, bright and gleaming.

The mirror was oval in shape, resting atop the dresser and propped against the wall. Makoto could just make out its sheen beneath the cloth of a dust sheet that had earned its name several times over. His fingers itched to paw through the dresser drawers, and his hands were nearly trembling with excitement at the thought of opening the chest, but it was the mirror's light that drew him in first. He sneezed wildly when he yanked the cover from it, eyes watering fitfully, but at last he could see the whole thing.

It was simply made, no edge gilt or otherwise, just an oval of glass ideally positioned to catch the light and a curious boy's eye. Mako flashed a gap-toothed grin at his reflection. He froze when the mirror rippled, the reflection in the mirror taking on the face of a very different boy from the one he was used to seeing.

"Ghost!" Makoto shrieked at the top of his lungs, skittering back from the dresser like it had caught fire and sprinting for the wall, but of course there were no convenient chairs, no phone books to boost him those few critical inches over. Instead he crouched there, hands clamped uselessly over his eyes, peering out between his fingers at the boy that crouched before him, blue eyes wide with matching panic.

 

* * *

 

Nearly twenty years later and Mako still had to repress a shiver every time he saw the first tell-tale ripple that told him Haruka had heard his summons. The mirror darkened to a shade of inky black he couldn't bring himself to look into for long, but of course when he glanced over his shoulder Haruka was already waiting.

Fair to his tan, deep blue eyes to complement his green and hair as dark as whatever well he had sprung from, Haruka was his physical opposite in nearly every way. A little reckless, a bit withdrawn, he hadn't copied much of his keeper's habits either.

"Are we still going swimming?" Spoken casually, as though he hadn't just materialized from thin air, just picking up their conversation where it had left off last night.

Makoto envied him that poise. By the end of the day their bond would either be irreparably severed or stronger and he was struggling not to let the strain of keeping that secret show in his expression.

"You're the Oracle. I should be the one asking questions."

Much had changed since that day he had first unwittingly called Haru. Makoto hoarded his questions now, careful of every word lest he goad Haru into an answer he didn't want to give. Both he and Haru had been too young to make a contract, far too young to understand there was a cost. It had been an accident, but magic didn't recognize mistake.

Every question he asked Haru would have to answer truthfully, and both of them had quickly learned it could be a painful and humiliating experience.

"You're feeling cryptic today. I'm the Oracle, that's my job." Haru mimicked back at him, arching his slender brows.

As simple as that, Mako's guard was up. Curiosity was the besetting sin they shared; the one that had tangled them together as children, that had chosen the shape of their bond and power. Haru was always looking for answers, and it vexed him to no end that Mako wasn't required to give them. He was devilishly good at ferreting out the answers he wanted though, and Mako wasn't _quite_ ready yet.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. He threw subtlety to the wind: "I thought we were going for a swim. If you hurry we might have time to stop for sushi on the way home."

Haru leapt at the bait, bounding up the stairs two at a time. Above him, Mako could hear the sound of drawers opening and shutting, hurried footsteps- a muffled curse as a vulnerable toe found the leg of that table both of them had been swearing to destroy ever since they moved in. He wasn't fooled, Mako knew, and it wouldn't be much longer before the question demanded an answer anyway.

After a swim, a meal, and a few more hours to muster the courage for his question.

 

 

 

 

"I always know when he's keeping a question from me." Haru muttered, "I've told you that."

"Mmm." Only listening with half an ear, Rin floated peacefully atop the water while Haru swam taunting laps around him.

Haru wouldn't race though, too caught up in studying his favorite subject: the man across the pool desperately pretending he was still warming up half an hour later. Rin knew what was eating them of course, but then neither one of them had bothered asking his opinion and Sousuke had warned him the better part of valor was to keep his mouth shut. For once he was determined to listen.

"It itches constantly until he finally asks. And this is a big question he's been holding onto for a while; I feel like I'm being eaten alive by ants-"

"Itching and burning?" Rin snorted, "Better get that checked out."

A wave of water hit him, drowning his laughter in frantic gargles as he struggled to draw breath again. He flailed, aiming as much for Haru as he could, by turns choking and laughing.

Across the pool he saw Makoto swimming toward them, ever the first to Haru's defense even in play. Rin quickly threw his hands up and ducked under the water, a universal gesture of defeat. It was a token of his distraction that for once Haru allowed it, grabbing Rin's hand to haul him back to the surface a second later.

Makoto was waiting when he surfaced, one arm slung companionably- _possessively_ \- over Haru's shoulder; laughter in his eyes though he was trying to keep his expression stern.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice you picking on Haru?"

"Foiled again." Rin sighed dramatically, eyes flicking to Haru who was shamelessly basking in the attention. He leaned into Mako's grip then just as quickly eeled out of it, scrubbing at his skin where Mako's hand had rested.

Mako's eyes widened in surprise as much as hurt "I'm so-"

"Whatever question you're keeping, I wish you would spit it out already." Haru cut him off with uncharacteristic asperity. "It _stings_."

"Seconded." Rin chirped, quailing when both turned to glare at him with matching scowls.

 _Told you_ , Sousuke's voice drifted through his mind, smug. Rin gamely ignored it in favor of gliding toward Haru, his own arm taking the place Mako's had so recently vacated. Haru was giving him an odd look, one that plainly said he sensed he was the rope in a tug-of-war game and was trying to figure out the prize.

"Got a question for Haru, Makoto? Not like you to keep it to yourself." His lips curved into more of a smirk than a smile, thoroughly enjoying Mako's discomfort. His face was all smiles, but his eyes suggested he was reconsidering their friendship… and how best to pry Rin away from Haru without letting on that he was jealous of something so inconsequential as a friendly hug.

"We charge friends double for our services." Haru quipped drily, wrapping a sinewy arm about Rin's waist just before dragging him under the water again.

 

It wasn't until he was washing the chlorine from his hair much later that Rin realized Haru must have put the pieces together. Clever oracle that he was, he must have already had an answer prepared for his partner too.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mackerel and fatty tuna, soft shell crab and abalone, but the alcohol was conspicuously absent.

Haru knew a bribe when he saw one. He also knew jealousy when he saw it staring at his best friend like it wanted to eat him, and fear when it was a smile on Makoto's face that didn't show any dimples.

He tried not to squirm in his seat, but the itch had become a vicious bite, and the answer to Mako's question was coiled on the tip of his tongue, waiting to leap out unbidden the moment he let his guard down. Haru couldn't answer a question that hadn't been asked. It didn't matter how many years he had been waiting for it.

So he indulged in a bit of retaliation, stuffing his face with the choicest cuts knowing that Mako's wallet would be far lighter for it in the morning.

"You mustn't have had breakfast this morning."

So careful with his questions. Usually Haru appreciated it; tonight he wanted to drag Mako to him by the collar of his shirt and shout "Yes, I love you! Yes, I'll stay! Just _ask_ me the question already."

But the very nature of their contract meant his answer would have no meaning until Mako offered him the question. He had waited this long, he could wait another hour or so while Mako enjoyed dinner.

"Do you-"

 _Here_? Haru froze, cup halfway to his lips. _In the middle of a restaurant_? Mako had always been something of a romantic, and Haru had rather hoped to have this conversation in private, but-

"Feel well? You're been picking at your food."

"I'm fine. Just tired." It had been easier to banter this morning before Rin had so blithely tipped the cards to him. Now there was only one question Haru was interested in answering and he was single-mindedly focused on it, all his cryptic riddles abandoned.

"If you're finished I could go home." Mako tried to hide a grimace, failed miserably. He had forced down a few bites, but Haru doubted he had tasted any of it. Good. Misery loved company.

Haru polished off the last couple pieces of mackerel, savoring them despite himself and briskly pushed the plate away. "Sounds good to me."

He fretted while Mako paid, fingers looking for something to do, eyes chasing any flair of color that caught his eye. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes, but time was precious when he could feel his tether drawing tighter as the sun moved westward. Never again if he had any say in it. Which meant Mako had to ask the question.

"You're anxious." Mako stepped out to join him, falling into step as Haru tried to drag him along that little bit faster.

"You're one to talk." He countered.

At first glance he seemed relaxed, until Haru took in the clenched fists buried in his pockets and the way his gaze skittered away every time Haru tried to catch his eye.

"Out with it." Haru pushed a little, testing the waters to see how much resistance Mako still had in him.

Mako drew a deep breath and let it out, some of his old confidence returning. "It's not really the sort of question I want to ask on the street."

"Before I have to return tonight." Haru pressed a little harder, only releasing a long-held breath when Mako briefly met his eyes and nodded once.

"Promise." Haru held up a playful pinkie, a little surprised when Mako twined his own about it. Even the smallest touch stung like a live wire, but Haru didn't let go, and Mako made no move to pull away. It was childish and silly, but the warmth of it burned up his arm and into his chest, a light pink darkening his ears that found its reflection high on Mako's cheeks.

 

 

 

He knew.

They kept to a leisurely stroll for most of the walk home, swinging their hands jauntily and occasionally tossing each other a knowing glance, a half-smile. Nevertheless, Makoto's heart had been beating a painful tattoo against his ribs since Haru offered him that inoffensive finger. Haru knew what Mako was going to ask him, and now Mako could truthfully say he had no doubt of the answer.

Where to go from there? Makoto swallowed tightly, nearly laughing aloud when he noticed Haru mirroring the gesture. He hadn't done a very good job of keeping his secret, but then he had never expected his secretive question to pain Haru quite so much. He wasn't complaining now, though Mako was certain the sting was still there.

He took the gift as it was meant and refused to feel guilty for it, but the knowing did take the unbearable weight from his shoulders. All his neatly laid plans had been botched by one impromptu water fight; why not take it the extra distance?

With that thought in mind, he only took the time to shut the door before turning to pose his question…

Only to find himself pinned there like a butterfly under the glass, Haru's hand twining with his own and fathomless blue eyes refusing to release him.

"I want to destroy your mirror." He managed, losing his train of thought for all of a split second when Haru's tongue darted out to wet his lips.

"I want you to stay with me." Makoto continued, daring to lean into Haru's weight, pausing when from the corner of his eye he saw Haru flinch. The question demanded to be asked, and dancing around the issue was only hurting Haru.

"Will you stay?"

"Not that one." Haru snapped impatiently.

Pride be damned.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes." A breathy snarl in his ear, joy and relief and something beneath it Mako hadn't been sure he would ever hear.

Laughing, Mako turned his head to catch Haru's lips, meaning only to steal a soft kiss or two. _Liar_.

Haru surged into him, teeth clacking against his own clumsy and rough. Impatient, Mako opened for him, twisting to catch a breath while he tried to separate from Haru long enough to get his shirt off. With an impatient huff, Haru gave in- just long enough to return the favor.

For all that, his hands were surprisingly gentle when they ghosted up Mako's ribs, raising goosebumps in their wake, muscles tensing at the teasing stimulus. "I thought you would allow me to go back tonight."

Mako tried to reply, but just then Haru's nails traced up his spine, making him gasp in surprise. A warm tongue slipped between his parted lips, savoring him, coaxing him to abandon the last of his reservations. Mako let his hands drift up to catch Haru's face, soothing and inciting by turns.

"Didn't want to do this in public." Mako admitted, pushing away from the door to guide Haru down the hall to the staircase. But first-

"I'll handle the mirror later." Haru murmured, tugging Mako's hand to drag him up the staircase while he looked back longingly at the frail thing that separated them.

"You're sure?"

Oracles weren't easy to come by. They had a pretty little nest egg to depend upon, but he had never been quite so mercenary as most of his peers. There would be no life of permanent ease and play for them.

"You insult me."

He would have taken it more to heart if Haru hadn't flashed him a toothy grin worthy of Rin. They would have to send him a gift basket later; without his help it might have been hours more before they finally stumbled into his room. Before Haru backed him as far as the bed and Mako slung his arms about his neck to pull him down. Before Mako flashed a telling glance at the first drawer of his dresser and watched the look on Haru's face when he pulled lube from the piles of clothes stacked atop it.

"You-"

"I've been planning for awhile now." Mako admitted, sitting up in the bed. "I thought-" _I hoped-_ "We had been waiting long enough."

One moment Haru was halfway across the room, the next Mako was sprawled across the coverlet, hair flying every which way while Haru kissed him again. Slow and thorough as though they had all the time in the world and not merely the few precious hours until sunset. Mako bent his knees, twining them about Haru's hips, rocking into him experimentally.

The catch of breath in his ear and Haru's hand tightening on the coverlet was all the confirmation he needed that he was doing something right.

"All that time you wasted." Haru muttered, but Mako could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Anticipation makes the heart grow fonder?" He let his hands drift to the waistband of Haru's shorts, giving an experimental tug. He _had_ wasted time, but they were going to make up for it.

 

* * *

 

 His mirror wasn't meant to be a prison, but too often it had functioned like one. Haru eyed his reflection in the myriad pieces of it lying on the floor; seven years bad luck, but Makoto was owed a favor or two and had promised to take care of it. Haru had been insistent on smashing the mirror himself. It had felt like home once, but that had long since changed and he was glad to be rid of it.

Behind him Makoto stirred, woken from his sleep by an errant draft of cool air. Haru twisted and rolled to reach him again, twining around him like ivy. Mako shivered at the touch of cold hands and feet but determinedly clenched his eyes shut to bask in their few precious minutes before the alarm sounded.

Makoto had always set it for sunrise, no matter how little sleep he had he woke again at sunrise to call Haru from his mirror. In all their years together he had never been late. Twice Haru had turned the blasted thing off, and twice Mako had woken in the middle of the night to check that it was set before snuggling back under the covers.

Habits weren't broken overnight, but Haru reasoned a couple unreasonably early mornings would do it.

He watched the seconds tick in the upper corner and-

Mako shot awake at the first harsh blare- scrabbling to find the snooze button, but frustrated in his efforts he pulled the cord from the wall instead and let the alarm drop to the floor. Haru revised his opinion: maybe one unreasonably early morning would cure him.

He blinked, rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes as he turned to Haru. "Morning. Why the alarm?"

Haru laughed, squeezing Mako's ribs until he released his breath. "You insisted."

"Figures." Mako muttered, turning in his embrace and deliberately arching into him as he stretched. He laughed when Haru took advantage of his arched neck to press a kiss there, another when he didn't object, hands wandering down his ribcage to the curve of his waist enjoying the tense and pull of his muscles along the way.

"You're not tired anyway, are you?" Haru whispered slyly, letting his hands drift a little lower until he heard Mako hum contentedly somewhere deep in his chest.

Mako opened his mouth to disagree with a wide yawn, only to gasp and clench his hands on Haru's shoulders. "Not anymore." He agreed, releasing a shaky breath.

"Good." Haru pressed his mouth to Mako's ear, enjoying the shiver that ran through him from head to toe, "I'm not nearly done with you yet."


End file.
